Burnt Bridges
by Illmerica
Summary: Through a series of unfortunate circumstances, both Russia and America are turned into amnesic children. But, luckily enough, they seem to get along just fine.


**7/21/2014**

_**Author's Note** ~__–~_ This little idea was mostly spurred from a single sentence – _what_, exactly, that sentence is is something we'll get to that later – and clips I saw from the Russia episode in subbed version season five. I did the most basic research required a month or so ago, so basically last week I finally threw my hands up in the air and, while waving them like I just don't care, said "Oh, fuck it". Eventually I got around to typing it out and this was the final result. Mostly just set-up and boring filler, I am perfectly aware, but don't worry! Russia and America will meet soon enough!

This will probably be a little two-shot or three-shot situation, though if I can come up with any good ideas or anyone has any it could turn out longer. As usual I don't have a beta – but should _seriously_ get one – so expect a few problems and mistakes, just about everywhere.

_**Pairings **__~__–~_ RusAme*, Franada

_(*if you squint)_

**_Summary_**_~__–~ Through a series of unfortunate circumstances, both Russia and America are turned into children. But, luckily enough, they seem to get along just fine._  


_**Word Count**__~__–~_ 3,814 words_  
_

**_Disclaimer_**___~__–~_ No. Nope. Nu uh. Nothing. Nadda. I don't own _anything._

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*****_Kievan Rus' _= _Russia_

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**Brunt Bridges**

~ One-Shot ~

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Kievan Rus' did not know who these people were.

But he _did_ know that he didn't like them.

Every single one was bigger than him, noisier too. They were crowded around in a terrifying hoard, all gibbering words he couldn't hope to understand with how quickly they were being spoken. None of the faces stood out to him, recognizable _or_ friendly. Rus' was tempted to run, but he a feeling none of them would let him get very far.

Instead he kept his head down and let them argue.

Counting, there were six people, each shouted at one another louder than the first, with their faces red and scowling. Rus' knew their loudness did not immediately make them a threat, but he had become cautious enough over the years to feel as if they would probably endanger his safety in one way or another if he didn't keep up some sort of guard.

He kept weary and ready for a strike from one of the mysterious men at any moment, tracing the floor's pattern with his eyes to pass the time. Rus' wasn't sure how long he had been with the loud men, but, if he was listening to the near-silent grumbling in his stomach, it had been almost half of a full day.

There was a part of his mind – a part that was less absorbed with cowering away and protecting himself and wanting to run away and being unsure of himself – that wondered just where he was.

The strangers' clothes were like nothing he had ever seen before, one of them even wearing thin metal wires across his face for some unexplainable reason. The room he had woken up in was confusing, possibly even _unnatural_. Floating candles incased in glass hung from the high ceiling on golden chains, and a thick table that only a noble could hope to afford took up most of the room. White sheets covered in strange symbols and colored lines were stacked in piles at almost every velvety looking seat, some having a shiny foreign looking writing stylus on or beside them. Rus' was unsure of what his seat was even made of, or why it had the very small wheels of a wagon on the bottom of it.

Maybe he was in God's heaven; his people had been devoted to reaching that place lately. But, did that mean Rus' had died? How? He didn't remember feeling a dying sensation, or maybe you couldn't feel death. Rus' had heard that sometimes death was painless. His could have been.

But what of the Novgorod Republic? Shouldn't Rus' be alive because of it? Or did he no longer represent those people? Rus' could have very well been replaced, though he hoped he hadn't. It was disheartening to think that someone who was most likely better than him had been chosen by the Gods to be _his_ people's manifestation, because it meant he hadn't been good enough. Rus' thought he had been doing a fine job too.

"Enough of this!" One of the men suddenly snapped over them all, and Rus' almost fell from his seat. The rest of the group seemed surprised by his shout as well, freezing in place almost immediately. "We can't keep squabbling like this if we even hope to fix Russia and America. Now, when did Ukraine say she would be here?"

Rus' looked up at the thickly browed man in confusion. He had never heard of any of those people before. If the strangely accented man – well, come to think of it, they _all_ had strange accents – was addressing him, he was using the wrong name. It was close but it was still rude of him, similar or not.

The tallest and broadest of the group glanced at the glowing rectangle in his hand. Rus' wanted to ask him what it was, but decided against it. That would mean speaking directly to one of the men, and he still didn't feel brave enough to do so. It didn't quell his curiosity for the object though, and possibly even igniting it.

"Ten minutes ago." He answered.

His accent reminded Rus' of the Germanic tribes he traded with on occasion, though _especially_ like what he had heard from central Holy Roman Empire natives that he had met. Was he a dead relative of the Holy Roman Empire? A deceased citizen of it?

"Bloody _beautiful_." The browed man groaned, smacking the palm of his hand to his forehead. "Both of them are nothing more than drooling children, effectively making this G8 meeting a _complete_ waste of time, and now Ukraine can't be bothered to come pick up her brother so we won't have to deal with him. This is just ace."

One of the other men – a thin one with brown hair, strangely squinted eyes and a curl – frowned, still clutching what Rus' had decided was a white flag. Why the man needed an instrument of surrender in such a seemingly safe situation was a true mystery to him. He had been waving it around almost frantically ever since Rus' had woken up in this God's heaven, despite the actual lack of a threat.

"_Ve_~" Rus' wrinkled his nose at the noise. The flag wielding man seemed to make it a lot. "Maybe she's only stuck in traffic. Miss Ukraine is too nice not to come!"

"Belarus was also with Ukraine when I called her. She'll probably be coming too."

The entire group tensed up. Immediately, Rus' guessed this Belarus person was mean. She would probably be something like the Golden Horde, if his terrible luck had any sort of say in it. Though, Rus' wondered, how did a person as terrible as he get into God's Heaven? Maybe God was more lenient then the churches and chapels painted him to be. _He_ had made it to God's heaven, too, after all.

"Speaking of our dear _Amérique_," One of the other men sent a sly grin to the browed man. "Where, exactly, did you put him? I haven't seen him since this morning, when you ran away with him. I would go so far as to say eloping together, but it seems in this situation it's hardly consensual. Though, I doubt much of his childhood was with you taking care of him. _Mauvaise chose_." He bowed his head in mock sorrow but couldn't stem his smile enough to make it even slightly believable.

The browed man's face flushed red within seconds. Rus' tossed the odd word back and forth in his mind, wanting to know if it was connected to the mysterious 'America'. They sounded similar enough to him. Then again, the Russia person had a similar name to Rus's own, so maybe not.

"Oh, belt up." Despite looking absolutely mortified – in Rus's opinion, at least – at the words, the browed man simply rolled his eyes. "He's in the next room, still sleeping. There's no need to wake him up." He said, jerking a thumb towards the wall behind him.

"But," The man with the wires sitting on his nose inputted, and Rus' marveled at how he had been able to hold his small bear-looking creature up the entire time without his arms weakening even once. It was quite the impressive show of strength. "Shouldn't someone check on him? If Russia's any example, America may still think he's your colony, England."

At that Rus's eyes widened and darted to the browed man that he was addressing.

_England_? As in, the _Kingdom_ of _England_?

Rus' knew of him, an island to the Northwest of Rus's own territory, with three older brothers. There had been whispers of the kingdom gaining military power and fights among the brothers for some time, as well as his strange affinity for breaking his church's rules by involving himself with evil and dark fae. Most of the stories made him seem wicked, but the tame man in front of Rus' had none of those supposed qualities.

But if the Kingdom of England was with him in God's Heaven – Rus' chose to ignore his curiosity on how the newer Kingdom was already so large and aged, something he had been told by his older sister only happened to the older or most powerful Kingdoms – did that mean that he was dead as well? Maybe the Kingdom of England could explain to Rus' why they were dead in the first place. Or maybe he wouldn't want to talk about it.

Wouldn't one be sensitive about their own death? Rus' wasn't sure; he had never spoken with the dead before.

Still, if the Kingdom of England wouldn't tell him then maybe one of the other men would. If they were in God's heaven with Rus' and the Kingdom of England, then they must have died somehow too. All Rus' had to do was find the nerve to actually talk to them, and then ask about it. One of them were bound to answer him.

"It was irresponsible of us to leave America alone." The final man said with a frown. "He may hurt himself in our absence, or become scared. Children tend to be afraid of the dark, and America was already easily scared as he was."

The man with the bear nodded, as if he had already dictated the same thing. "Japan's right." He looked pointedly towards the Kingdom of England and the long-haired man. The prior didn't seem to notice, while the latter sent him what looked like an apologetic smile. He huffed at it.

The man with the curl's hand shot into the air. "Ooh! I will watch the _bambino_!" He beamed happily, clapping his hands together. Somehow, Rus' noticed, his flag had disappeared. "I am very good with kids! Aren't I, Germany?"

The man with the mysterious glowing rectangle – Germany, apparently – hesitated before nodding his head. "_Ja_," He near sighed.

The Kingdom of England eyed them both. "Fine," He finally said. "You can take care of America. But, mark my words, if _anything_ happens to him while he's in your care then you will know _precisely _why I was the most feared pirate on the ocean." His words, although spoken casually similarly to how one would mention the weather, had a thick undertone to them.

The man with the curl – who looked as if he had been about to jump into the air in joy at the agreement – shrunk back and stared at the Kingdom of England with wide eyes, his white flag suddenly back in his hands. He held it out in front of him, as if stuck between using it as a form of defense or surrender.

Rus' thought the threat was unneeded – as the man had looked as if he had _genuinely_ wanted to watch America – but couldn't bring himself to mention it, whether it be fear of them or respect for America. After all, this America person had effectively diverted the entire group's attention off of him, and without even being in the room. He must have been really important to them. Maybe the other person, Russia, was important to them as well.

"_S-sì, naturalmente_," He hooked himself onto Germany's arm and retreated from the room, ignoring Germany's yells of objection.

"_Nein_! Italy, _nein_!"

The large doors at the front of the room slammed shut with a loud bang and, once again, Rus' found himself struggling to keep himself from falling out of his seat in surprise. He cursed his own jumpiness, and righted himself.

"Well, _Angleterre_, that was uncalled for. _Amérique_ will be fine." The blonde man laughed, leaning causally against the ornate table beside the man with the bear. He leaned close to him, and, seemingly unconsciously, the other man did the same.

Rus', who had been watching them, was unable to see where the sudden flash of light and the small _click_ sound came from, but when he jumped and turned Japan was stuffing something into a pocket on the front of his tan trousers.

"I don't care." The Kingdom of England sniffed. "You can't trust that twat with anything, much less a child."

Japan, having fit whatever it was bad into his pocket, cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but…"

The remaining three turned to him immediately.

"Yes Japan?"

"We still must decide how to fix this problem. Both America and Russia are important countries at the moment and it would be regrettable leaving them as they are. England, would this have anything to do with some sort of magic? You have more experience with such things than I."

The Kingdom of England put a hand to his chin. "It's quite possible." He admitted. "But I would have to look into my books, maybe try a few spells on Russia, to know for sure. Even if magic was the cause, it would take me some time to find the right spells to counter anything as well. It is possible for me to ask Norway or Romania for help, but I couldn't promise they would refrain from share out '_situation_.'"

"But none on America?"

The Kingdom of England blinked, turning to look at the slightly taller man. "Excuse me?"

"Sorry, but–" The man with the polar bear stopped then shook his head. "Never mind."

Rus' looked between the two men. The Kingdom of England wasn't the largest of their time – the name 'Roman Empire' often came up, and Rus' couldn't help but mix him up with the current Holy Roman Empire, mostly because he was never told the actual difference or if there even was one – but it was still able to hold title of 'Kingdom' and in Rus's mind that made him important enough. So, seeing how England was a kingdom, the other men around him must have been something great before they died too. Rus' just couldn't tell what those great things _were_. They all looked so _average_ to him.

"So we must watch him until Ukraine comes?" The long-haired man asked, pointing a finger towards Rus'. "I can only stand to stay in a room with you people for _so long_."

Rus' jumped when the others looked at him, almost wishing he had something to hide behind. Instead he burrowed his face as deep into his coat as possible, leaving only his eyes looking outwards. The men looked at him strangely at that, and Rus' couldn't help but feel as if he'd done something wrong. He closed his eyes, mostly so he wouldn't be able see their expressions.

Just before anyone could have replied, the doors opened once again, though much more gently than before. A head poked through the gap, turning this way and that until it caught sight of the group. A cheerful smile broke out on its face and the doors were pushed open the rest of the way.

A woman walked into the room, another shorter and smaller one with an unhappy face following after her.

The first woman had tears dampening her eyes as she looked at Rus', but her smile made it hard to tell if she was genuinely upset or not. The other stood silently beside her, a strange gleam that Rus' couldn't decipher in her eyes.

He, unfortunately, failed to notice the men behind her watch the second woman, almost fearfully.

Instead, he was focused on the strange scratch of familiarity that the two had on his mind. They brought memories of his older and younger sisters, though Rus' couldn't tell why. Aside from slight physical similarities, these women didn't seem anything like his sisters. They weren't weird enough to be his sisters.

"_Братик_! _Це так добре бачити вас є безпечними_!" The woman suddenly cried as she swept Rus' into a hug. He had no time to react before his face was crushed into the pillow-like mounds of flesh on her chest and he was dragged out of his seat. "_Я так хвилювалася_!"

Rus' couldn't hold in his squeak as he tried to push her away, lungs burning from his suddenly small supply of air. He squeezed his eyes shut again, hoping to force his tears back and keep himself from crying. Meanwhile, the woman pet his hair and sobbed freely, still murmuring in her strange tongue.

Fortunately for Rus', Japan intervened just as his vision began to blink with fluttering white and colored spots. "Ukraine," He stood next to the woman, face passive. "I think you are hurting him."

While his mind happily acknowledged that he was finally getting to meet one of the people behind the mysterious names he had been hearing upon waking up, his mouth were more preoccupied with taking in gulps of air.

Ukraine dried her eyes with her sleeve and – having dropped to kneeling on her knees during some point – reached forward to wipe off a stray tear that had managed to escape. Rus' felt his face heat up at the fact that he had cried despite his best efforts and hoped none of them noticed it.

"Oh, _Братик_," Ukraine sniffled, a few droplets still falling down her cheeks. She was a crybaby, Rus' decided, but he couldn't say it was that bad of a thing. He was a crybaby too, after all. The only real problem he found with her so far was he strange methods of greeting. "Don't worry. We will be taking care of you until we can have this fixed!"

Rus' swallowed and tried to make a hum of agreement. It died in his throat and he slowly nodded instead.

Ukraine didn't seem to mind, if anything her smile brightened.

Standing up and turning to the men, Ukraine gestured towards Rus'. "You said he couldn't remember or speak, yes?"

"_Oui_," The long-haired man gave her a drawn out smile. "He hasn't said a word, or recognized a single one of us as far as we can tell. _Timide_."

"Hm," Ukraine pressed her lips together, as if to stop herself from frowning. "Would that mean he doesn't know Belarus or I anymore?" She asked tentatively, eyebrows knit together with a sidelong glance at her companion.

"Afraid not." The Kingdom of England answered. "I can't tell if whatever caused his age also took his memories, or if it's from a hit to the head. Russia had a bump near his temple when we found him like this, but it healed by the time he woke up."

"And America?" The second girl finally spoke, her hands half-tucked under her dress's apron.

Rus' saw a flash of metal and was tempted to climb back onto his seat to get just that much farther away from the threatening girl. She eyes darted over to him almost as soon as the thought appeared and Rus' ducked his head to avoid her gaze.

The man with the bear shrugged. "He's with Germany and Italy right now. I don't think he's even woken up yet, though, if he has he's been unusually quiet."

The Kingdom of England scowled. "I bet those idiots did something." He spun on his heel towards the still open door. "I can't believe I left America with them!"

"_Angleterre_," The long-haired man sighed, grabbing onto the other before he could make it far. "You worry too much. He will be fine. _L'allemagne_ would tell you if something went wrong, and _L'italie_ is quite capable with children." At the Kingdom of England's impatient face, he smirked. "Don't worry, you can go see your precious colony once we finish here."

"Fine, frog. Whatever."

"Back to Big Brother." The second woman suddenly snapped, her own face still strangely nonchalant. "You," She lifted her hand to point at the Kingdom of England, but used a sharp dagger instead of a finger. "Will fix him."

The Kingdom of England blinked at her, his face twitching worriedly. Rus' had a feeling it wasn't for America anymore. "I'm working on it, trust me."

"Belarus." Ukraine smiled, setting a hand on the other's shoulder. "Remember, he can't fix Russia if you kill him. Then we might never get him back again." The Kingdom of England blanched at the words.

Rus' looked up at the second woman in surprise. So _she_ was the Belarus all of the men had seemed so tense of. Well, he could see why they felt so. Despite her harmless servant's attire, Belarus had a nasty air of her. And she looked as if she was quite capable with the weapon in her hand.

At that thought the shaking started in Rus' shoulders and down to his arms. He chewed his lip and gripped at his knees, hoping to stop his quaking limbs before they got any worse. It didn't help and almost seconds later he was blinking scared tears back into his eyes, begging them not to fall.

He didn't even know if she was dangerous! Why was he getting so scared all of a sudden? He shouldn't be so scared!

One of the men sighed, readjusting his hold on his pet. He didn't seem nearly as fearful as the others, just logically cautious. "But we would prefer if you didn't kill him at all." The man with the bear said.

Japan nodded in agreement, his shoulders squared as if he was expecting some sort of fight to break out.

And maybe one would have, given the spark of annoyance on Belarus' face, but Rus' didn't want this mysterious Belarus to kill the Kingdom of England – or anyone really, because all of those people had been decently nice to him so far, despite near terrifying him as well – so he jumped to his feet.

"I will make you no promises–" Belarus stopped abruptly, looking down at the small boy clinging to her arm.

Rus' couldn't stop a few of the salty tears from escaping his eyes, but clung to the knife wielding hand with all of his tiny might. Belarus froze, almost in shock, staring at Rus' with a strange but still closed-off expression. With all of the eyes on him, Rus' wanted to let go and run and hide – possibly forever, because his face was burning like an open fire and he was shaking like leaf would in dry winter winds – but he didn't let himself cower away. Instead he puffed out his chest and gripped tighter, still cursing the water in his vision that caused it to blur and for quivering like a useless _child_ when he should have been proving himself brave to these people.

"Please don't." Rus' whispered, hopeful they couldn't hear him. But the room was deathly silent, and it was clear they all had. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder and, with any luck, firmer than before. "Please don't."

"I-I…" Belarus seemed at all loss of what to do. "Okay." She finally said.

Rus' unraveled his arms, tucking them at his side. "Thank you." He said, eyes locking onto the ground, embarrassed. The others watched him in what looked like amazement.

"You are…welcomed."

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Translations

_French_

Amérique / America

Angleterre / England

Mauvaise chose / Poor thing

Timide / Timid

Allemagne / Germany

Italie / Italy

_Italian_

Bambino / Child

Sì, naturalmente / Yes, of course

_Ukrainian_

Братик! Це так добре бачити вас є безпечними! / Little brother! It's so good to see you are safe!

Я так хвилювалася! / I was so worried!

Братик / Little brother

A Little Historical Background:

Kievan Rus' was a federation composed of multiple East Slavic tribes that was established in 882 and disestablished in 1283. It's land stretched from modern day Belarus, Ukraine and western Russia, even reaching the Baltic and Black seas during its prime in the mid-11th century. Close to its collapse – so basically the thirteenth century – the Mongol Empire (or the Golden Horde, as it was also known) invaded Kievan Rus' and destroyed multiple cities; including Ryazan, Kolomna, Moscow, Vladimir and, the federation's capital for a good portion of its reign, Kiev. This is what Rus' is referring when he mentions the Golden Horde as a bully.

The Novgorod Republic was the next step in Russian history, gaining independence from Kievan Rus' just before its collapse. Novgorod operated from 1136 to 1476, and was mostly made land from modern day Russia. Novgorod faced decent relations with the Mongol, never having to face its own Mongol Invasion, but did have to pay tribute and taxes to the Khans. Over its course, Novgorod fought 26 wars with Sweden after rocky political relations and 11 with the Livonian Order or Livonian Branch of the Teutonic Knights – better known by most fans as Prussia – who had been trying to conquer the reign since the late twelfth century. The Teutonic Knights' campaign against Novgorod ended with the Battle of the Ice, which is well known for having – for whatever stupid reason – been fought on a large frozen lake.

This battle is portrayed in the season five episode '_Russia and Friends_', which actually kinda helped inspire this little story.

Hope all of this wasn't _too_ boring...


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